Saturday, April 23, 2011
The Thirteenth Station: Jesus is taken down from the Cross
These hands lovingly fashioned the Universe in ways that we don't really comprehend save that we can make scientific measurements of His effects. Now they are torn with nails and lie limp and lifeless in the lap of His mother. The heart whose beat quickened at the sufferings of His children, when He cast out those blocking the way to God, when He wept at the tomb of Lazarus is still and broken by the point of a spear. There is no blood left to bleed. There is no breath left to breathe. There are no more tears, either of sadness or laughter. All is still. And cold.